The Art of Losing
by BloodiedBowties
Summary: -Can you feel that, Blaine? That was my lips on your hand. And this – was on your temple. And this one – was on your lips.  Could you feel them, Blaine?


**The Art of Losing:**

Kurt Hummel, having just sent his boyfriend home after a wonderful weekend together at the Hummel home, curled up on his bed and inhaled the scent that was Blaine Anderson.

He was working on last minute homework when the home phone rang. Kurt didn't think anything of this, as anybody who needed him would call his cell. So, Kurt let the phone ring knowing his father or Carole would grab it eventually. He just secured his headphones a little tighter, being respectful of Finn who was on his side of the room making dinner plans with his girlfriend, Rachel Berry.

He didn't hear Burt knock and he didn't see the pained look on his father's face when he entered the room. But he felt when Burt sat beside him on the bed, and it was then that he took his headphones off, looked up, and realized that something had gone very wrong.

"It's Blaine," Burt said. "He was attacked last night."

* * *

><p><em>B-Blaine. Oh my God. Blaine. T-This is just… how could anyone… Blaine. Honey. Why did this have to happen to you? Oh my God. Blaine.<em>

* * *

><p>Kurt stayed with Blaine as much as the hospital would let him that first week. The doctors still weren't sure if Blaine would make it through, concerned about the blood he'd lost, the surgeries he'd have to endure despite his already weakened state, and most especially the terrible injury that'd been caused by multiple impacts to his head.<p>

The police suspected baseball bats.

Kurt shook off the images, trying not to think of Blaine's pain in those final moments. How he must have been feeling…

Kurt only ate when told to, and sometimes not even then. The entire Hummel-Hudson family had taken Blaine under their wing, and Carole and Finn often kept Kurt company while Burt continued to try and reach Blaine's parents who were off vacationing somewhere in the world.

Blaine was still alive at the end of the week.

* * *

><p><em>Hi, Blaine. It's your mother. I'm so sorry this happened to you. We've paid for the best care, they're bringing in one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. The Hummels have been taking good care of you. Get better soon, dear.<em>

* * *

><p>Blaine didn't get better. Not really. He was still alive, and his body had begun healing from his injuries, but he remained in a coma from which the doctors weren't sure he'd wake. The damage to his brain had been severe, and although he wasn't medically considered "brain dead," Blaine seemed like a vegetable anyway.<p>

When Kurt cried, Blaine was supposed to look lovingly at him with those gorgeous honey brown eyes of his, wipe away the tears with finger, and pull Kurt to his body so that his chest would absorb the painful sobs.

He loved his father, but he just didn't feel the same in Burt's arms.

And when Kurt sang, Blaine was supposed to sit forward in his chair, and follow his every movement with his eyes. But Blaine remained still. Occasionally a muscle would twitch, and sometimes his eyes would dart back and forth underneath his eyelids – perhaps he was dreaming. But not even the sound of Kurt's voice could wake the boy and eventually the music stopped.

And when Kurt kissed Blaine, Blaine was supposed to respond. But they weren't living a fairy tale; true love's kiss did nothing.

* * *

><p><em>Hi, honey. It's…been awhile. I'm sorry I haven't come to visit, Blaine. It's just been so hard, you know. I hate seeing you like this. I honestly can't stand it and I don't know what I am supposed to do anymore. Can you hear me, love? I hope you can. Please hear this. God Blaine...Honey, you're my everything. What am I suppose to do now? Who am I supposed to love? I need you. Loving you gives me a purpose. Without you… I-I'm nothing. Please, baby. Please wake up.<em>

* * *

><p>Kurt's visits to Blaine went from being a daily thing to a weekly thing, then to a biweekly thing. There was the brief change in the pattern when the doctors called to say there had been an improvement and Kurt spent the following three days hoping for Blaine to wake. But Kurt returned home after that time with a renewed ache in his chest. Blaine wasn't going to wake up, and Kurt's visits returned to their biweekly pattern.<p>

It was just too painful.

* * *

><p><em>Hi, Blaine. We read a poem yesterday in English class and I want to read a bit to you. I know you like poetry and the words really spoke to me so here I go. <em>

_The art of losing isn't hard to master;_

_so many things seem filled with the intent_

_to be lost that their loss is no disaster._

_I'm skipping to the end, Blaine. Don't hate me too much, ok?_

_Even losing y-you- (the joking voice, a gesture_

_I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident_

_the art of l-losing's not too hard to master_

_though it may look like…_

_Oh, God…. Kurt, just s-say it._

_..like disaster. 1_

* * *

><p>Dave Karofsky walked into Blaine's hospital room, holding the bouquet of flowers he'd bought at the grocery store right before. There were various other flowers and gifts scattered across the white room, giving it the bright color that Dave knew Blaine would want. Everything was well-organized in way that added to the room rather than making it look cluttered. Dave knew this was the work of Kurt.<p>

He didn't quite know where to put the flowers he'd gotten Blaine, so he gently placed them on an open chair before sitting in the one next to Blaine's hospital bed. Blaine looked nothing like the boy he knew. He looked smaller, like he was slowly disappearing into the white sheets. His face was rough with stubble and his hair had grown back longer than Blaine normally kept it. Dave knew that if he were to look, there would be a scar on Blaine's scalp from the surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain. Dave realized painfully how close he'd come to being one of the assholes who did this to Blaine. Blaine, who cared too much for his own good and who'd found it in his heart to forgive Dave and help Kurt do the same. Sweet, kind-hearted Blaine who didn't deserve any of this.

"Dave Karofsky?" The voice was quiet and monotone. Dave swung around in his chair to acknowledge who he knew would be Kurt Hummel. Kurt was dressed in black skinny jeans and a red Dalton sweater that was too big to be his own. There were dark circles under his dull eyes; This was just a shadow of the Kurt Dave knew. "Hi. You bring these?" He said, waving a hand at the flowers.

"Uhh… yeah. I thought he'd like them," Dave replied.

"He would. He always did like lilies." Kurt said in that same low voice. He busied himself by emptying one of the clear vases of its dying flowers and replaced them with the bouquet Dave had brought. "That was nice of you, Dave."

"He saved my life," Dave said simply. Kurt turned, his hurting eyes revealing the _mine too_ he couldn't speak.

Kurt put the mask back in place. "I know. Why don't you take a seat," Kurt said as he fell into one of the chairs at Blaine's bed side. Dave pulled his own chair next to Kurt. They sat in silence, both staring at the unresponsive boy on the hospital bed – one of them with the hopeless eyes of someone who'd seen no improvement in the boy he loved over the two months Blaine Anderson had been comatose and the other blinking back tears for the boy he'd barely had a chance to know.

Kurt withdrew a tissue from the box that rested on the table next to him and handed it to Dave, who was quietly sniffling beside him. Dave accepted it with a nod and wiped his eyes – then his nose.

"Thank you," he said. "If anyone had told me a year ago that I'd be friends with the school's resident gay and his boyfriend I probably would've-"

" –thrown that person in the dumpster," Kurt finished dryly.

"Well. Yeah, probably. I'm so sorry for all of that, Kurt. The slushies, the dumpster shit…"

"I know, Dave. You've apologized already. I forgave you."

But there was more Dave desperately needed to say. He and Kurt had reached an understanding, but there were still subjects they hadn't yet breached. They were things Dave knew he needed to get out in the open. "I'm sorry for threatening you too."

"I _know_."

"And the kiss too. I'm sorry for that." Kurt froze. Dave continued, looking down at his hands as if they'd help him get through the words he needed to say. "I was just confused, Kurt. I know that's no excuse. I should never have forced myself on you that way, but I panicked. I'm gonna be honest, Kurt. I liked you - perhaps maybe I still do a little bit. But what you have with Blaine…that's real. A-And it's so beautiful."

And then Kurt was kissing him…on the mouth and with all the passion lovers share. For a moment, Dave reveled in the feeling of Kurt's lips on his own, the lingering taste of coffee that had become a part of Kurt's distinct flavor. But this was Kurt. And he was Dave. And Blaine was lying comatose in the bed beside them.

Dave pushed Kurt away. "What the Hell, Kurt!"

"Please, Dave. Please," Kurt was pleading, his hands pulling desperately at Dave's shirt. "Just help me feel."

"No. Stop! Stop it, Kurt. This isn't what you want."

"Yes it is. Yes it is." Kurt slid his soft hands to frame Dave's face. He looked into the taller boy's eyes, seeing honey brown instead of Dave's hazel green. Kurt's bottom lip trembled, and he pulled Dave's lips to his own to hide the tremors.

Dave was unresponsive, and when Kurt tried to deepen the kiss, Dave gently pushed the smaller boy away. "I'm not Blaine, Kurt," he said sadly.

"David," Kurt breathed heavily. Dave looked up at the wide-eyed, teary boy next to him. "I don't know what to do," Kurt said. He faded to a whisper, "I've lost him," before sliding out of his chair and falling to the floor as sobs shook his body. Dave scooped Kurt in his arms and rubbed his back softly.

"It's gonna be okay, Kurt."

But it didn't feel like it was.

* * *

><p><em>Hi, honey. I did something stupid today and I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me. I kissed David. Karofsky, I mean. Not David Warbler. I really don't know why I did it. He's come so far this year and I just saw this strong and proud OUT gay man in front of me. I think I desperately wanted to pretend he was you. I miss you so much, honey. My heart will always be yours. I'm so so sorry. <em>

_-can you feel that, Blaine? That was my lips on your hand. _

_And this – was on your temple._

_And this one – was on your lips. _

_Could you feel them, Blaine?_

* * *

><p><em>Blaine. It's Burt. I never had the chance to tell you, but sometime while you were coming around, you became a son to me. It hurts to see you here just as much as it hurts to see Kurt hurting. You're the most compassionate person I've ever met and you didn't deserve any of this.<em>

_And Kurt… Well, they say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, right? Seeing him right now reminds me of myself after Elizabeth. The last thing I want is to see him go down that dark place, and I know you wouldn't want him to wallow either. You'd want him to be his vibrant, happy self, wouldn't you?_

_Blaine, you should know that Kurt graduated today. You should really have been there too. I'm almost certain you would've gotten valedictorian. The Glee Club sang a beautiful song in your memory. I don't know it, but I recorded it for you. Kurt sang the lead. He wanted to be here while I played it for you, but I think everything caught up to him. I don't think he was ready to say goodbye yet._

_He's going to New York in the fall, Blaine. He's moving on with his life and I hope you understand that it's what's best for him. You're not going to be alone, Blaine. I'll come visit and so will Carole and Finn is going to a community college so he'll be around too. _

_And I promise I'll get Kurt here to say goodbye. Here's your song, son. We miss you. _

_Hi, my name is Rachel Berry and I'd like to introduce the Seniors of the McKinley High Glee Club. We'd like to sing a song for someone special. If you could, please send your thoughts and prayers to Blaine Anderson, who should be standing here with us today. Kurt Hummel, everyone: _

_A beautiful and blinding morning_  
><em>The world outside begins to breathe<em>  
><em>See clouds arriving without warning<em>  
><em>I need you here to shelter me<em>

_And I know that only time will tell us how_  
><em>To carry on without each other<em>

_So keep me awake to memorize you_  
><em>Give me more time to feel this way<em>  
><em>We can't stay like this forever<em>  
><em>But I can have you next to me today… 2<em>

* * *

><p><em>I love you, Blaine. Good bye.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>The Art of Finding:<strong>

_I love you too, sweetheart. I'm going to make it back to you, I promise. Wait for me. _

* * *

><p>Blaine Anderson didn't quite know what was going on, or where he was, or why he felt as weak as he did when he woke up. He didn't know that he'd been hospitalized for the majority of what should've been his senior year. He didn't know that he'd missed the summer or that the plans he'd made to take Kurt to France had fallen through. He didn't know that Kurt was in New York for college.<p>

All he felt was an overwhelming love for Kurt and the soft touch of the doctor's fingers.

* * *

><p>Burt Hummel was at the shop when he got the call. It was a Saturday, so they were very busy. But Finn had taken a few of Kurt's hours, as well as his own, and was now working there part time. Despite his clumsiness, Finn was a hard worker, and he'd picked up on everything quickly. Burt was comfortable leaving Finn with the dirty work while he took care of the business end of things, so he went to pick up the ringing office phone with a nod to Finn to keep things going.<p>

"Tires and Lube, Burt Hummel speaking. How can I help you?"

"Burt Hummel? This is Lima General calling. You're listed as guardian for a Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes. What's happened?"

"He's awake. Can you come down?"

"I'm already on my way."

* * *

><p>Blaine remembered very little. He only knew what the doctors told him, and that was simply that he'd been attacked and been in a coma for most of the past year and that Burt Hummel was on his way.<p>

He'd been poked and prodded and asked ridiculous questions and all he really wanted was to hear Kurt's voice telling him it would be okay, and to be held by Kurt's lithe frame because it was the one thing he could cling to while the world around him seemed to be all over the place.

Kurt was his constant in the chaos. And as his eyes slipped to a close, he dreamed of Kurt.

And he remembered.

* * *

><p>Burt hadn't wanted to wake the boy. He could tell that things had changed, though, because Blaine had curled to his side instead of resting on his back. Burt gripped Blaine's hand tighter when the boy whimpered in his sleep. He gently pushed Blaine's curls back behind his ear. He'd definitely want to be getting that hair cut soon.<p>

Blaine woke with a gasp, but he felt a big hand holding his own.

"Burt?

"Hi, Blaine. I'm so- so glad."

"Burt? Where's Kurt? Why isn't he here?" Blaine asked. He cried when Burt simply shook his head.

"I'll get him here. Shhhh I'll bring him. It's going to be okay."

* * *

><p>"Who is this?"<p>

"Garet. Who's this?"

"Finn. Kurt's step-brother. Where is he? Why are you answering his phone?"

"Chill! He went to a room down the hall. He'll be back in a minute."

"I just don't like the idea of someone answering his phone for him. It's very un-Kurt. Will you just go get him? It's important. It's about his boyfriend."

"B-boyfriend? What boyfriend?"

"What? Didn't know he was gay? You're a terrible roommate, dude."

"I'm not his roommate."

"Just go get Kurt, please."

"He's right here."

* * *

><p>Upon arriving to New York, Kurt had vowed never to look back. He put his memories of high school, of Lima, of New Directions, and of Blaine and filed them away into a little box. He wanted to start fresh, without the burdens that home reminded him still existed.<p>

He'd "forgotten" to call home the first week, but when Burt called to make sure his son was still alive, Kurt had broken into tears at his father's voice.

He'd met Garet while auditioning for the school's production of Spring Awakening, the musical. Garet was a Junior, a theater major, and incredibly handsome. He was also gay, and as equally interested in Kurt.

They'd gone out for coffee and kissed a few times, but Kurt kept thinking back on the boy he'd left behind. He'd wanted to start fresh, though, and Garet became the way to do it. Maybe one day, he'd see Garet's green eyes instead of Blaine's caramel.

The last thing he expected when Garet burst into the common room smoldering as he held out the cellphone was Finn's happy declaration that Blaine had woken up. He dropped the phone, and fell to the floor as a tear made its way down his cheek. The dorm mate he'd been studying with dropped beside him, asking if he was alright. Garet angrily stormed away with a disgusted look.

* * *

><p>"Don't you dare leave, Kurt"<p>

"I have to. He needs me."

"What about me. _I _need you."

"You never even knew me, Garet."

"If you go, that's it. We're done."

"Goodbye, Garet."

* * *

><p>Kurt took the red-eye flight home and drove straight to the hospital, arriving around the beginning of visiting hours. He found his way to Blaine's new room according to the directions the nurse had given him.<p>

He stopped outside the room. Inside was Burt, who had stayed through the night. The radio was set to a series of light tunes while Blaine slept with Burt watching over him. The room was filled more vibrantly with flowers. Finn had obviously spread the news quickly.

"Dad?"

"Kurt!" Burt whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy. He walked towards his son and gave him a hug for all the times he'd missed him since the beginning of the semester. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too. I missed you guys. It'll be good to be home. They gave me the rest of the semester, but after Christmas-"

"We'll figure all that out later, son. Right now there's a boy here who really wants to see you." Burt swung an arm around Kurt's shoulder and led him to the chair at Blaine's bedside.

"Blaine? Honey?" Kurt said, twirling one of Blaine's curls around his finger. "Wake up for me?" For the first time since Kurt began saying those words, Blaine's eyes fluttered open.

"Kurt?" he said blearily.

"Oh Blaine! I'm here, honey. I'm right here." He reached for Blaine's hand.

"You weren't here. Do you still love me?" Blaine asked, shifting his gaze to the top of his sheets.

Kurt was taken aback by the question. "Oh my god, Blaine," he said. "You're my heart, my everything. I've never _stopped_ loving you." Kurt took his sleeve and wiped the tears from Blaine's face. "We're ok, honey. I'm going to kiss you now."

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well that was fun. If you follow me, I apologize for my other stuff. I'm a terrible updater. I should just stick to one-shots. Hope the format wasn't too confusing. Please review!  
><strong>

**1: excerpts from _One Art_ by Elizabeth Bishop**

**2: _Awake_, Josh Groban**_ (sung by Kurt Hummel :) )  
><em>


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